Soldier Sword (The Teralin Sword Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Pendin was safe already. If he did nothing, Senda might not be.

  That was answer enough.

  He hurried east.

  23

  The air hung with the scent of the grasses crunching beneath his boots. Endric stalked carefully forward, keeping himself in a slight crouch, making certain not to leave his neck exposed and risk what had happened to Charles. He didn’t think that he’d get ambushed that way again, but he wasn’t certain either way and wouldn’t risk taking any chances.

  Walking this way made his body stiff and achy, but better that than dead.

  The line through the grass continued to the east. Now that he’d gotten comfortable following it, he found it easier and he made a point of making large steps every so often, leaving a distinct print in the grass as he trampled it while moving east, wanting Pendin to have an easier time following him. In his mind, that was the only thing keeping him going.

  Where was this army?

  It would have to be close. These men were afoot, and they had seemed to know that they were followed, which told Endric that they wouldn’t have been camped too far away. If they had, they would have risked exposing themselves sooner, or not coming across anyone at all. The men he’d killed had been scouts, sentries. They had to have been.

  And he had to catch the last one before he reached the others.

  As the night wound on, darkness growing around him, he could no longer easily tell if he gained on the other man. It was possible that he would be the one caught now, rather than the opposite.

  Yet Endric pressed on. If he didn’t, he feared what would happen to Senda and how they would use her. Already he feared what they intended with her. She had been the target, and though he didn’t understand why, he needed to know what they were after.

  The longer he went, the more he began to question. Did this have to do with the reason she’d been gone from the city? Had she endangered herself more than they had known? Listain would never tell him, and because of that, he doubted that Senda would share either, but if he did manage to rescue her, he would find out why she’d been targeted.

  By the time the thin crescent of moon appeared in the sky, finally giving some silver light to the increasing darkness, there came the rustle of grasses signaling movement ahead of him.

  It was subtle, but he’d been trying to remain as quiet as possible, using every bit of his training to move through the grasses as silently as he could.

  He slowed and steadied his breathing, making certain that he had one hand on his knives. Two others were slipped into his belt. If he were abducted again, he wouldn’t have anything in his boots to use, but this wasn’t a time to plan for that kind of failure.

  A shadow appeared against the grasses.

  Endric raced toward them, jumping as the figure turned.

  He drove his fist into the figure’s cheek, knocking him down. They rolled, the grasses crushing beneath them, and he pummeled the other as he went until the other guy stopped moving.

  Endric shifted, getting off the other person, and crouched.

  It was a man about his age. Dark hair hung to his shoulders, and he had a close-cut beard that would hide any scars. The man was dressed in black and had a sword sheathed at his side.

  Something drew him to examine the sword.

  As he did, he suppressed a soft gasp.

  The blade was black teralin, the kind that he’d seen the Deshmahne possess.

  He sliced at the man’s sleeves, pulling them up to reveal his forearms, but saw no tattoos, none of the markings of the Deshmahne.

  Why would this man have a teralin sword?

  And what did that mean?

  He scanned the area around him, searching for movement, but there was none. Endric expected that he had to be close to the rest of the troops but wasn’t certain exactly how much father he would have to go to reach them.

  He’d felt the strange surging doubt when facing the men before. Was this the reason?

  Was that what Senda knew?

  Listain hadn’t shared, but the damn spymaster knew something. How much did he endanger the Denraen by not sharing with them?

  Unless Listain didn’t know.

  Had Senda kept it from him?

  The idea troubled him. Why would Senda have kept that from Listain? What secret did she fear that she would keep this from him?

  Probably the same reason Dendril had hesitated sharing with Endric what he had planned for Urik, the same reason Dendril maneuvered to get Endric out of the city and into the south. They both could be useful there, gathering those who might be able—and willing—to serve as informants—but it was more about preventing Listain and himself from acting rashly.

  What if they needed to act more decisively?

  Could this be why Urik had gone to Thealon?

  There might be teralin there, especially given the Magi claims that it helped speak to the gods. Endric imagined the priests thinking to use it to grant them the same ability. If there was someone who managed to shift its polarity, who could charge it, what would happen?

  Probably the same as had happened with the Deshmahne.

  They would gain dangerous abilities, but they would also be tainted by it, left darkened the way that Novan and Brohmin had been.

  Endric felt like he suddenly was working from the wrong assumptions. He needed more information. First, he needed to find Senda, but then what would he do?

  There were others who could help, others who were not Listain, if he could even reach the man in time, but Endric didn’t know how to find Novan—or Brohmin—easily. They would need to help, especially if this had anything to do with the teralin.

  Endric made quick work of binding the man’s wrists and ankles, using strips cut from the other man’s tunic. He left the teralin sword alone, not wanting to touch it, fearing the effect it might have on him. Even this close, he could feel its pressure on him and understood why he had felt the sense of darkness before he had attacked. That had been the influence of the sword, but he’d managed to push it away. He would have to find a way to continue pushing that influence away, if he could.

  As he worked, the man began to slowly awaken.

  Endric held a knife to the man’s throat. Unlike when he’d been captured the last time and had managed to escape by capturing his captor, he wouldn’t hesitate to take this man’s life. How could he, when the man had a black teralin sword?

  “I can tell that you’re awake,” Endric said.

  The man shook his head, meeting Endric’s eyes. He had more spirit than the last man he’d faced. Endric didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

  “Where’s your camp?” he asked.

  “You won’t reach it alive. They’ll kill you and those with—”

  Endric leaned forward, touching the tip of his knife to the man’s throat so that it drew a small drop of blood. “I think you should settle yourself and remember where you are. Now. Where is the camp?”

  “You won’t be able to stop it.”

  “What makes you think I intend to stop anything?”

  “Isn’t that why you’re here? The Denraen thinking to solve all the problems in the north? You would crush those with power so that you’re the only one with any.”

  “The only person I intend to crush is you. And the person who abducted my friend.”

  The man started to smile, a dangerous expression that began to spread across his face. “You won’t be able to reach the commander. He is too well protected.”

  “Why her?”

  “It’s not my plan to share.”

  Endric pressed with the sword. “I have this near your throat, but let’s say I cough—or sneeze—or anything other than hold the knife steady, what do you think will happen? Will your commander be able to protect you then?” He pulled back, leaning back on his heels, waiting.

  The man licked his lips nervously. “There is a price on her.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

&nb
sp; “Who has the price?”

  “A priest. That’s all I know.”

  Endric frowned. “No priest would place a price on someone like that.”

  The man flicked his gaze to the sword briefly before licking his lips again. “Maybe not that you know, but the priests do whatever they need to protect the church.”

  Could this be tied to Urik?

  It seemed impossible, but the man had gone to Thealon. There were plenty of reasons for him to be in Thealon, especially if he intended to instigate another attack on the Deshmahne, but would he be able to hide as a priest?

  Yet… he’d already hidden as a historian and as Denraen, what was one more organization for him to betray on his vendetta?

  “Where is this priest?” Endric asked.

  “I don’t know. Last we saw him was along the border.”

  “What border?”

  “What border? The one we’re on. Between Thealon and Gom Aaldia. I haven’t seen him since, though the commander might have. I don’t know.”

  Endric pulled back his knife. He wasn’t going to kill this man, but he might need him for more answers.

  24

  Endric crept forward through the grass, moving as silently as he could. He left the soldier behind, not willing to risk dragging him along. The kindest thing would have been to finish them off, but Endric didn't know whether he had been kind by not doing that, or if he had been lenient. Either way, he left the man behind, choosing not to take one more life. If all went well, he would return and drag the man with him back to Listain and the rest of the Denraen.

  At this point, he was tired from the day spent not only racing toward Senda, but also fatigue from the fighting and how long he'd been awake. His mind felt foggy, and he forced himself to stay alert. If he drifted off now, if he lost his focus and concentration, Senda would suffer. Endric was determined not to allow that to happen. He would fight for her and do all that was necessary to get her to safety.

  In the distance, he saw the cluster of trees like the man had promised.

  Endric slowed. This was where he was going to find the camped army. When he did, he wasn't certain what he would do next. Would he run in blindly and capture the commander? Did he try to rescue Senda and leave it at that.? Was there anything more that he could do?

  Endric moved more slowly now. The camp was here, if the man hadn’t deceived him completely, and he could observe them—see what he could find—and then decide whether it was safe for him to move forward or if he needed to wait for more Denraen.

  What of any additional scouts? So far there had been none, but it was possible he would find others, especially as he neared the camp.

  A soft breeze gusted through, leaving him with a slight chill. The cold helped his mind, clearing it enough that he found himself more alert.

  Endric surveyed the land, taking in the undulating curves and able to see the campsite. This wasn't what he thought that he would find. He counted the tents, taking in nearly one hundred in all. A small fire crackled in the center. This was not a group of men who were trying to hide their presence.

  Endric crept closer, staying low, only his head above the grasses. As he did, he heard soft laughter. He saw nothing else. No movement around him.

  Doubt crept in again.

  What did he hope to accomplish? What did he think he could do by coming here by himself? This was a mistake. Much like risking himself for Senda was a mistake. Would she have done the same for him? Unlikely. She had hidden her assignments from him, not even sharing with him how she served the Denraen.

  He should be angrier about that. And he was, wasn't he?

  Endric shook the question away, clearing his mind.

  He recognized the influence for what it was—something that was unnatural, not coming from him but from the teralin, the same influence that he had felt when he first encountered the other scout, the same as what he’d felt when facing the Deshmahne. As he had then, he had to ignore that sense.

  As much as he wanted to ignore it, he struggled. It continued to press into him, slowly sneaking through his defenses, leaving it so that he had no choice but to acknowledge the fears that were coming to him. They were not his—at least not those he wanted to accept.

  Endric took a few studying breaths, pushing away the dark thoughts.

  They faded slowly, like he peeled off a scab, leaving his mind raw and on edge.

  At least he knew he was in the right place.

  For him to have those sentiments meant he was where he needed to be, even if there wouldn't be anything that he could do.

  What was Senda doing? How did she withstand the pressure from this? He couldn't even imagine being able to withstand it indefinitely. Fending it off now was hard enough; she would have to be subjected to it perpetually while trapped by the Ravers, much like Listain would have been while trapped on the teralin throne.

  His resolve intensified. Endric had to save her. She couldn't remain trapped like this, subjected to this torment.

  Was this how they thought to gain the attention of the Deshmahne or was it something else? Did they intend to use this power to challenge them?

  That fit better with how he could anticipate Urik using them, but he didn't understand how, not yet.

  Endric stayed low, remaining hidden. It was late and fairly dark, keeping him concealed, which made movement easy. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to maintain his position without getting caught. All he knew was that he needed to move quickly and find a way to learn where Senda was.

  Maybe there was more he could accomplish. If he could find the commander, it was possible to counter their intended attack, especially if they intended to attack the Denraen.

  Endric noted movement near the center of the camp. He remained motionless on the edge of the camp, having crept as close as he felt comfortable at this point. Nothing else came.

  They had made a mistake not tramping down all the grasses around their campsite. It was a mistake the Denraen would not have made. Then again, these weren't professional soldiers.

  The rest of the camp was quiet. Endric suspected most of the men were sleeping. Movement from a patrol neared and then circled around him. Endric crawled forward once the patrol was past, moving toward the tent at the center.

  As he neared it, he thought he heard movement and froze.

  What was he doing trying to sneak into the camp this way? He should probably wait and let himself be caught. What other choice did he have? Why did he think he could get Senda free? Why did he think he could challenge the commander? He was nothing.

  They were dark thoughts.

  Teralin thoughts.

  Endric recognized them and pushed them away.

  The teralin here must be potent for him to experience it this way, as potent as when he’d confronted the Deshmahne.

  That meant he was close. Near enough that he wanted to sprint to the tent, but he forced himself to remain cautious. Moving too quickly would draw attention.

  Endric reached the opening to the tent.

  He paused. Not this way.

  He circled around, reaching the back of the tent, and made a slit in the canvas with one of his knives. He pulled the canvas up far enough to crawl underneath.

  He blinked a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the change in the lighting. Inside, a dimmed lantern glowed softly.

  Something about the lantern caught his eye. He stared at it a moment before he realized what it was: It reminded him of what the miners used when he’d gone through the tunnels with Pendin into the university.

  There had to be a connection, but he didn't have time to think through it. Not until after he rescued Senda.

  The tent was large enough for several people, but there was only a single pallet rolled across the ground. A dark-haired man slept on it, occasionally snoring. In the corner was a metal crate with thick slabs of dark metal. Senda was curled inside, her body bent to fit inside. Her staff leaned against the canvas. Somehow she managed to sleep
.

  Endric debated slitting the man's throat to take the keys but decided against it. He still needed answers.

  There was another option.

  Listain had taught him a technique about how to crush a man's throat. Endric had never practiced it and didn't want to fully crush this man's throat, only wanted to keep him from alerting anyone else.

  Endric steeled himself as he crawled toward the pallet. The sleeping man tilted his head back and started to stir, his eyes flickering open.

  Endric sliced at him with his open palm, catching him in the throat with the edge of his hand as Listain had taught. The man gasped, tried to take a breath, but failed. Endric covered his mouth and nose with his hands, holding him.

  The man struggled, kicking.

  If he did nothing, he would raise too much attention. Endric flipped his legs on top of the other man's legs, pinning him in place. He held onto his nose and mouth until the kicking slowed, holding longer until it ceased altogether.

  Endric cut strips from the sheets, binding the man's hands and feet, and then stuffed another strip into his mouth. He would deal with the man later.

  He looked around the inside of the tent, finding no sign of keys. He checked the man he bound, searching for anything on him, but there were none.

  He would have to try another approach to freeing Senda.

  He approached the cage, holding his knife, and jammed it into the lock. Endric wriggled it side to side until the lock snapped.

  Senda awoke with a start and jerked against the cage, staring at Endric as if unable to believe that he was there.

  “Endric?”

  Endric raised a finger to his lips. “Quiet. I’m going to see what I can do to get you out of here.”

  Senda shook her head. “You can't. I'm close now.”

  “Close?”

  Her eyes drifted past him and widened when they fell upon the man he had bound, leaving unconscious.

  “Oh, Endric. What have you done?”

  “What have I done? I'm here to save you.”

  “And by saving me, you're risking our chance to finally know who’s leading the Ravers.”